Storm
by Sapphires And Gold
Summary: Based on the prompt "Jaime and Brienne get stuck on a deserted island together" from @braimeficideas on Tumblr


A/N: This was supposed to be a mayyybe 500 word fic based on a prompt on Tumblr. Whoops.

* * *

_How long have I been in this storm?_

_So overwhelmed by the ocean's shapeless form_

A shadow passed across Westeros.

Brienne forced her horse forward. "Down, Pod, Down!" As Pod ducked, Brienne swung Oathkeeper. Her aim was true, and she sliced through Littlefinger's man. Another was upon her right away, and she cut him from his horse as well. Pod was before her, his mount wandering nearby. "Get your horse," she said as she sheathed her sword.

Just then, lightning struck nearby and her steed reared, throwing Brienne into the river behind her. She muttered curses and tried to stand up in the water, but the winds had picked up and the already-strong current dragged her across the river bed. "My lady!" shouted Pod from the banks, the reins of both horses in hand. "Stay there!" she cried, clawing her way toward the bank. She hit the rapid before she saw it, and then she was underwater.

Moments later her face broke the surface again with a desperate gasp, crying out for her squire, but she'd gone several hundred feet down the river now, and Pod was nowhere to be seen. As heavy rains began to fall, she struggled to keep her head above the churning water, but despite her height she could no longer reach the bottom with her feet. Her limbs were exhausted from trying to swim perpendicularly to the current, and the armor was making her sink.

She kicked her boots off, gasping as her stockinged feet met the icy water. She managed to pull off the guards on her forearms, throwing them toward the bank with little success. As she pulled at the shoulder ties, she realized the current seemed to have slowed. But when she looked up, she could no longer see the banks - only blue water and grey mist meeting grey sky. The water here was a bit warmer though not much. Perhaps, she thought, I'm just acclimating to it. But she knew that wasn't it. The river had pushed her into the sea. And she was still sinking.

The rain pelted at her as she finally released the knot holding one shoulder together and dropped the metal into the waters below. She released the other and watched as the beautiful blue steel sank into the bluer depths. She felt tears springing into her eyes, mixing with the rain and the saltwater that now threatened to swallow her. The breastplate and leathers remained, but she would not be able to remove them with Oathkeeper still tied to her, and she was not going to part with the sword, even for her life. She carefully unbuckled the belt and wrapped it around her wrist while she divested herself of the breastplate, another link to Jaime lost to the watery fathoms.

_Water's getting harder to tread_

_With these waves crashing over my head_

The studded jerkin came last. The water had already seeped into her linens, and the leather stuck to her as she removed it. With a final tug, she was free of it and it, too, sank beneath her. She felt lighter, colder, more alone. As she bobbed in the water she realized that unlike her armor, the sword was not sinking. Rather, it floated along the surface of the rainy sea, the Valyrian steel's density at odds with the brine. She quickly pulled the belt around her, looping it over her shoulder to keep Oathkeeper across her chest, Jaime's sword helping to keep her head above water as she fought the waves.

Her limbs ached, but she knew she had to keep moving, to try and find purchase on land, any land. As the storm moved off, she could finally see something in the distance. It wasn't the rivermouth, and it was barely even a shore. Her eyes were bleary and stung from the salt, but she thought she could just make out a small beach and a hill covered in trees. She grabbed at the hilt in front of her as if to reassure herself that it was still there, took a deep breath and began swimming as hard as she could.

She swam until she could finally see the shifting sea floor below her. Righting herself, she dug her feet into the sand and kicked against the bottom until she felt gravity reclaim her. The current was still strong, so she untied the sword belt and held the sword in its scabbard out like a red and gold walking stick to keep her balance as she climbed to the beach. When her toes reached dry sand, she fell to her knees with a cry, panting and out of breath.

She laid down on her back as the sky swirled grey and white and finally blue overhead. Her linens stuck to her body, the wind chilled her damp second skin, the bright sun warmed her toes, and sand filled the creases beneath her. She reached for the scabbard and clutched the hilt of the sword to her chest, the cold metal digging into her skin. She was alive. "Thank you. Thank you." She kissed the lion hilt. "Thank you."

_If I could just see you_

_Everything would be all right_

The merchant ship rolled in the waves. The winds had come on so suddenly that the crew hadn't had time to align the ship with the storm. They were being knocked about with each roll of the sea, and the rains had gotten worse. They should have been well south of the capital by now but instead the tempest was dragging them northward.

The captain called for all hands, and all those below came above deck to help tie the lines and try to get the ship back on course. But the sea was too strong. As lightning struck in the distance, a huge wave crashed into the ship and knocked the men off their feet. When Bronn stood up again and clutched the railing, Jaime was nowhere to be seen. He'd been swept overboard and had sunk below the waves.

* * *

When Jaime broke into the air again, the ship was well out of reach, sturdy waves breaking between him and it, pounding into his sides. His jerkin felt waterlogged and heavy, so he tugged it out from beneath his sword belt and dove beneath the waves to shove it over his head before coming up for air again. The water was frigid against his chest and his arms ached. He thought to rest a moment as the rain pounded against his hair and face, but he felt the sea tugging at him. His right arm was especially heavy.

_If I'd see you_

_This darkness would turn to light_

It occurred to him then that the solid steel hand gilt in Lannister gold, was pulling him down. Spitting out a mouthful of seawater, he loosened the bands around his arm and dropped the wretched object into the deep. The strain in his arm was gone immediately, and he struggled to swim in the direction he felt the ship to be. But Jaime hadn't had an occasion to swim since losing his hand, and there would be no catching up with the ship which had now righted itself and was already out of sight in the storm's residual mist.

He felt the Valyrian steel sword at his side buoying up strangely as he bobbed in the water, and he untied the belt to find that the sword floated quite easily on the water. As the seas calmed, he buckled the belt and then wrapped it around him so that the sword was strapped across his back, keeping him afloat as he aimed his body in what he believed would be the direction of land, and kicked. Once the skies began to clear and his legs began to tire, he kicked off his boots and cursed himself for not doing so beforehand, as it made the swim much easier.

Squinting against the sun, he thought he could make out something glinting against a shadow in the distance. He tried to rub his eyes but the sea water burned. He shifted his shoulders in that direction and resumed kicking, using one arm, then the other, as a kind of rudder to steer in the direction of beacon.

Finally he felt his hand graze the sandy bottom and he yanked it up, flipping his body over and found purchase in the sand with his hands and feet before finding his way up on wobbly legs and unbuckling the sword belt while his eyes focused. He could see now that the shadow had been a tiny likely-uncharted isle in the Narrow Sea, perhaps ten acres all-told, with scrub brush and leafy trees not far from the beach, extending to the center of the isle where the elevation rose to a small peak, spotted with smaller trees. The terrain to one side seemed rocky, while the other seemed softer and more lush. And it was at that end of the beach that he spotted the beacon catching the sunlight and moved toward it. As he got closer he finally realized what he was looking at. His blood chilled as it sped up in his veins and he bolted toward the body.

* * *

_And I will walk on water_

_And you will catch me if I fall_

Brienne had fallen asleep, the sword clasped to her chest with her right hand, her left hand dug into the sand as if holding onto the island for her life. Her body had used up all of its reserves in the swim to the isle, and sleep was the only way to regain some of that energy.

She was dreaming of being on Tarth and walking the shores with Jaime. He had never even been to Tarth, let alone with her, but the two of them had occasionally walked the gardens of King's Landing together. In the dream he held her wrist and she held her breath. He touched her hair, whispering her name, a question on his lips. And then his lips were on hers and she truly felt at home.

But then she opened her eyes to find the silhouette of a man hovering over her and blocking out the light. His lips were on hers, breathing into her mouth, and his hands were on the center of her chest. She reached for her sword but it was no longer within reach so she instead grabbed at the empty sand, and flung a handful into the face of her assaulter, screwing her eyes closed to avoid being hit herself until the man staggered back with a shout. She rolled and finally grabbed hold of Oathkeeper as she saw the man's hands go to his eyes.

Wait - not hands, hand. The man had one hand. She licked her lips which had only moments before been covered by his.

"Jaime?"

_And I will get lost into your eyes_

_I know everything will be alright_

"I thought you were dead, gods the seawater hurt less than this, I couldn't feel your pulse...I thought to revive you and this is how you repay me? Gods."

She dropped the sword in the sand and moved toward him. "Here..this will be more gentle." She bunched her dried linen sleeve around her wrist and shook it free of any debris, then she stayed his hand with hers and used the cloth to brush the sand from his eyes. He was finally able to open the left while she worked on the right, and took in the scope of her. He'd upset her hair when he'd tried to rouse her, and now it had fallen to the sides of her face, which was burnished either from the sun or from finding him on top of her when she woke, he wasn't sure. Like him, she was shoeless, armorless, and apparently alone. She still held onto his hand as she worked on his face, and her skin seemed to burn him, but he did not pull away.

_I know everything is alright_

"Were you caught in that storm too, or do I have the pleasure of finally seeing Tarth? A bit smaller than I thought it would be...ow, damnit, woman." He finally pulled away, guarding his eye from further poking, and caught her satisfied smirk.

"Yes, I was caught in the storm."

"What were you doing on a boat? Has Sansa turned pirate, then?"

She rolled her eyes at him and marched back up the beach to collect their swords. "I was not on a ship. But I had just seen Lady Sansa."

"She's alive, then?"

"For now...she's with Littlefinger."

Jaime nodded, pushing the pieces of the puzzle together in his mind. "Her aunt?"

"Dead. Lord Baelish is her uncle now."

"Alive for now, then. If you weren't on a boat, how did you come to be here?"

He was suddenly standing much to close to her, and she held his sword out, pushing the hilt against his chest, forcing him to grab it. "Do you mind if we continue this conversation elsewhere? Unless you're keen on watching my skin boil?" She turned and walked towards the scrub brush and disappeared behind a tree.

"Lead the way, my lady," Jaime muttered and followed her into the shade.

* * *

"Do you think Bronn will continue on without you?"

"I doubt it. He's no hero. Cersei will likely need to resort to some other method to bring Myrcella home."

Brienne nodded and wiped another drop from her arm. They'd weaved their way through the brush and finally found a small cave, just big enough for Brienne to stand, but wide enough that they could pace on opposite ends without disrupting one another. A spring bubbled into a small waterfall near the top of the cave, and a smaller stream below, running out and trickling into the sea. It wasn't much, but the water was fresh and the cave would shelter them from the sun if not from subsequent storms. Jaime glanced out of the cave mouth and studied the sky. "It will be dark soon. You'd better get a fire started."

"_I_ had?"

"And you should see about climbing one of these trees for some sort of food. I don't want to starve - maybe you don't even need to climb."

She took a breath and looked at him frankly. "I thought we'd moved beyond this point - you and I - I thought that I had begun to respect you at some juncture, but my mistake, I see we're back to our old ways. Shall I start calling you Kingslayer again, then?"

"Fire-building and foraging are both two-handed ventures - perhaps you've forgotten that I lost one of mine with your name on it," he bit back.

"I'm sure you'll find some low-hanging fruit to gather on the other side of the island, that's usually what you're good for."

She spun on him and stormed out of the cave in search of dry kindling. Jaime huffed out a breath as if to reply, but the words died in his chest. He didn't want to argue with her. He didn't want to insult her. The truth was he cared a great deal for her. But the situation was doing nothing to encourage the tolerance they'd grown for each other's moods while they'd been thrown together for a year. For Jaime's part, he didn't think he'd ever see her again, and certainly not in these conditions. He'd missed sparring with her, physically and verbally. He missed walking with her in the gardens in silence. Hells, he just missed her.

_I know you didn't bring me out here to drown_

_So why am I ten feet under and upside down?_

The breeze tossed his hair as he exited the cave. She was nowhere to be seen. He huffed against his linens, hoping they would stay warm enough once night came, and walked off in search of food.

* * *

When Brienne returned to the cave, having cursed Jaime Lannister's name against the wind until she was hoarse, and carrying all the dry wood she'd been able to find, she found that she was alone again. But he had clearly been out and back again. On the ledge by the stream sat a branch of ripe blueberries, two stalks of sugarcane, and an overripe orange that had been halved. She hated arguing with him. And insults were beneath her - beneath both of them, really. They'd been through enough together. And now they'd both had their missions upended by that storm and been thrown together once again - it was unfair for one to blame the other for it when clearly this was the work of the gods.

She pulled the tie loose from the top of her shirt and set to work on making a bow to start a fire. It had been years since she'd done it this way, but they didn't have much choice. After several attempts and a broken tie, she managed to get a low fire going, away from the drip of the waterfall, and close enough to the entrance that the smoke would have not just the opening in the ceiling, but the cave mouth from which to escape, ensuring that it would not overwhelm them. The location meant that the two of them would need to keep to the same side of the cave, but that was not problematic. They'd huddled close to one another on the cold nights between Harrenhal and King's Landing. This would be no different.

But as darkness fell, Jaime had not returned. The breeze was still light outside but she could feel the cold settling in, a chill rising from the sea. Clad in as little as she was, he would not do well to stay out in this. Praying that he hadn't done something idiotic like fallen out of a tree or been lured back into the sea by a mermaid, she settled her belt on her hip and ventured back outside.

The moon was climbing high, lighting the ground through the canopy above, but there was no sign of him. She walked back toward the beach, but there were no footprints to follow. She covered what she thought to be half the island before she finally began to panic and started calling for him.

* * *

_Barely surviving has become my purpose_

_Because I'm so used to living underneath the surface_

After collecting what little he could find in the fading light and leaving the majority of it for her, Jaime had headed to the western portion of the island with a pocket full of berries and half of the orange, hoping to spot lights from either land or sea in the distance. After seeing all he could from the harsher shore, he'd climbed up the rocky outcropping to try and get a better look from higher up. But there was nothing to be seen - just the moon reflecting off of the sea and the stars coming out to laugh at him.

The two of them were as alone as they would ever be, he thought. Even when she'd been leading him in chains, they'd at least had other creatures about, and occasionally other men which Brienne would subsequently kill to keep their secret. And in King's Landing they'd never really been alone - the spider's little birds were always about. Now all they had was each other - no one else to impress, no one to defend the other against - and they were still fucking it up.

_If I could just see you_

_Everything would be all right_

The sound of his name roused him from his thoughts. He climbed down from the rock and rounded the corner of the beach where he finally saw the source of the calls. Her back was to him and her hair was shining like a lantern in the moonlight. The breeze blew her linens tightly against her body, and he could see that she was gripping the hilt of her sword as if for security - she was worried. "Brienne," he called lightly, just loud enough for the wind to pick up his voice and carry it to her like a caress. She turned into the breeze and finally saw him, and slumped her shoulders in a sigh. As they crossed to one another, they both muttered their apologies, grinning slightly when they spoke over one another.

"The wind is turning bitter, Ser Jaime, we should go back - there's a fire now."

"Brienne, please, I'm truly sorry - I was upset about our situation here.."

She studied him, the wind whipping her hair back and blowing the open collar of her shirt against her collar bones, exposing the angry pink scars that raked her here. With a lopsided grin, she held out her left hand to shake his in truce. He reached out his hand and shook hers once, but then before she could pull away, he turned her hand and raised it to his lips, brushing her knuckles.

_If I could see you_

_This darkness would turn to light_

She felt a blush creep down to her back as she released her hand, the heat in her head bracing against a new wind that blew stronger than before. She leaned toward Jaime, shouting over it, "We should get inside!"

He nodded and followed the blush on the back of her neck back toward their temporary home, whispering to the wind, "lead the way, my lady."

* * *

On the fifth morning, the rains came again. They did their best to shift the fire inward, but the opening in the ceiling meant that Brienne and Jaime were then restricted to huddling even tighter in the corner together. They'd fashioned a palette of sorts out of fronds from the trees that grew outside the cave, which kept them out of the dirt, but their clothes were sticking to them with sweat and grime, and it was all either of them could do to not point a finger at the other when the stench became unbearable.

As the storm passed, the rains moved off, and the winds reduced to a whisper of a breeze.

"We need a bath," said Brienne, tending to the fire. "I wish we had a pot that we could boil these linens in."

"What if we built a fire out by the stony tide pools?"

"How would that help?"

He shrugged, "we build the fire, put some of the larger stones in it and let them heat up. Somehow pull the stones from the fire without searing our skins off, and then drop them into the shallow pools with the linens. It wouldn't be perfect, but it could serve...and having the fire on the shore might do something to help get us rescued."

"I don't know, Jaime."

"Do you not wish to be rescued?" he asked with a raised brow, his face too close to hers.

She elbowed his shoulder and stood up. "It's not that…"

"We've bathed together before. And I don't think there will be anyone else around to see our poor starving bodies anyway."

She nodded and picked up her fire bow and waved it at him, "Desperate times, I suppose. C'mon. Bring the palette - we'll use it to dry the linens on while we bathe."

Once the fire was built and the rocks placed, Jaime removed his clothes and placed them into the pool. Brienne averted her eyes as best she could and removed her own breeches, then her shirt, covering herself with it while Jaime dropped her pants into the pool as well. She was too concentrated on the task at hand to blush, but he was admittedly doing that enough for her.

"Why don't you run down and bathe? I can take care of this. I'll lay everything out and then head down the beach to give you your privacy."

She scrunched her brows together and awkwardly held out the shirt, turning away from him so that he would have only seen her back had he lifted his eyes to her.

"I'll go, but I won't be far. There's no need for you to distance yourself. As you said, we've done this before."

_And I will walk on water_

_And you will catch me if I fall_

He nodded, his eyes focused on the fire, and she walked off between the bushes. He swallowed as she disappeared onto the beach, willing his mind to forget about the sight of her disappearing figure. The heat of the fire was not amenable to his needs, and he worked fastidiously to complete his task, looking forward to sinking his body into the icy sea.

With little injury, Jaime managed to slide the rocks into the pool and used his sword to stir it about. It wouldn't be perfect, and they might smell of crustaceans until they finally died on this island, but it would feel cleaner. He dipped the hilt of the sword into the pool to retrieve each item and then laid them out on the palms to dry. Then after adding a few more sticks to the fire, he finally eased himself into the cold water and swam around the horn of the island to meet Brienne.

* * *

Once back on the beach and clothed, they sat on the palette together. Brienne stretched her limbs, her spine stiff from sleeping on the ground, accompanied by the lack of activity in the last few days. She couldn't remember the last time she'd been so idle.

_And I will get lost into your eyes_

_I know everything will be alright_

He watched her, admiring the way her eyes seemed to mirror the sea.

"A shame about your armor," Jaime mused.

Brienne nodded into the breeze, enjoying the feel of it pushing her hair back. "We could have used it over the fire."

"That's...true, but not what I was thinking." He turned to face her fully. "You know you have-"

"-Would you care to spar, Ser Jaime?"

"be...I...I don't know that I've ever sparred on sand before. And with no armor, and only these swords…" his mouth went dry. There was something incredibly exciting about the idea of sparring with her with no protection. The danger of it made his blood run hot, but, "...are you sure? We just washed these and we've no way to mend them...I could go without a shirt for a while but I'd hate for yours to get filthy again so quickly. We could be here a while yet."

Brienne smirked and stood, brushing the sand from her sides, and looked down at him with those eyes, deep whirlpools glittering with stars when she was teasing him. "Are you afraid of me?"

His breath hitched in his throat as she looked down at him holding out her hand. He tore his eyes from hers and looked at her proffered hand, and took it, letting her help him up. "Only of harming you," he said, turning to pick up their swords, and then tossing the larger of them to her.

_And I will walk on water_

_And you will catch me if I fall_

She smiled widely as she unsheathed her sword and picked at the sand with it. "You'd have to get close enough to me for that, Ser."

"Don't underestimate a hungry knight, Brienne." His eyes flashed as he drew his sword, "But don't worry, my lady - I'll be gentle."

* * *

It was dark when Jaime entered the cave, shaking the last of the sand from his hair with a begrudging grin at Brienne as knelt and tended to the fire.

"You didn't move it back over?"

"I figured it wasn't worth the effort," she replied. "The second it rains again, we'll just be right back here - besides the palette has been working, hasn't it?"

"Oh yes, it has." He skirted around her and sat down on the woven fronds, against the wall of the cave. "Though now that you've shown your true colors, I'm not sure I want to share with you. I'd be safer sleeping in the stream."

She snorted in response and laid the stick down in the dirt. "Don't be a child about it."

"When did you get so vicious in your fighting?"

Her only reply was to lie down on the palette where she'd knelt, her back to him. She'd never replaced the ties at the top of her shift, so it pulled awkwardly across her shoulder as she laid down, exposing her scars.

"Was it the man?"

"What man?"

"You said Arya was traveling with a man, and that you killed him."

She didn't respond.

"Brienne, I've been watching you fight for some time - you're like a sponge. You pull in the best things from every encounter - it's why you don't grimace anymore. I'll lay claim to that one. It's why your footwork has become deceptive - you sparred with Bronn more than once, and you learned from him. But there's an edge to you now - something more brutal than before."

Brienne took a breath and then rolled onto her back so that she could see him. She nodded and raised her shirt a bit so that he could see the healing mottled green bruises across her abdomen that seemed to crescendo into a mass of blue and green and yellow and purple at one hip.

"Gods," he muttered, and moved to cover her hand with his. "Does it hurt still? You didn't seem.."

"No, no the pain is mostly gone and the damage was mostly superficial...but yes, I suppose if I do take things from my opponents in that way, then yes - any new brutality can be attributed to the fight that gave me these."

"Who was he?"

_And I will get lost into your eyes_

_I know everything will be all right_

She hesitated, then met his eyes. "Sandor Clegane."

Jaime's eyes went wide and he gripped her hand almost painfully as sat up from the wall and moved to his knees to hover over her. "The Hound?!"

She eased her hand out of his grasp, and he released her, realizing he'd been holding onto her quite hard. He sat back on his heels. "The...no wonder." He shook his head. "The way you swung at me in those last few minutes...I could have guessed." His mind went temporarily to the pain in his arm from when she'd smacked it with the flat of her sword, and he unconsciously moved to soothe the skin there with his wrist. "I wouldn't be surprised if my arm starts to look like your hip there."

She shook her head and gave him a scathing glance. "What do you want? Do you want me to kiss it and make it better? We were sparring, Jaime."

"I should have never given you that damn sword," he jibed.

She didn't sense the joke and instead set her jaw and rolled back over to face away from him. "You can have it back, then."

"I-" he sighed and laid down facing her back. When he'd given her the armor, he'd hoped she would think of him when she fought, that he could be there in a way to protect her. Giving her the sword had been even more than that - like she was taking a piece of who he was with her, a piece of his heart. In the six months that they'd now been apart, he'd done many things that were unworthy of her, but every time he'd broken free of Cersei in that time, his first thought had been of Brienne carrying that sword, protecting a part of his heart that Cersei would never have. "It's yours, Brienne. It will always be yours."

He watched her sigh and continue to turn further away from him. He thought to reach for her, but then considered that he might want to keep the fingers on his remaining hand, and instead rested it between them on the fronds.

As she turned further away from him, Brienne felt hot tears forming in her eyes. With her armor gone, the sword was the only thing she had left of Jaime. If they ever found their way off of this island, the last thing she wanted was to leave without that sword in hand. His reassurance touched her, but she could only think of what would happen when and if they were ever rescued.

* * *

_I know everything is all right_

In the middle of the night, the winds changed again and blew cold air into the cave, nearly extinguishing the low fire. Brienne shivered in her sleep, her arms clasped against her chest. Jaime, unable to sleep for long, had already inched closer to her.

But now as the winds whipped through the rocky space, he oh so carefully reached around and lifted her head, allowing him to slip his right arm under her neck. Then he gingerly wrapped his good arm about her, holding onto one of her forearms, enveloping her.

It was not the first time either of them had done so for the other, there having been plenty of chilly nights on the road when they traveled south with Qyburn and Steelshanks. But that had been in the earliest days of their friendship, their truce only days or weeks old at that point, and she'd been much more wary of his touch then. Not like now.

Now when he pulled her to his chest to warm her, she sighed and leaned back against him. "Jaime," she whispered, half asleep, "...cold."

Jaime briefly considered trying to do something about the fire when suddenly Brienne was spinning in his arms. She snuck her arm under his so that his head could rest in her hand, her other arm snaking around his back and up the back of his shirt, her freezing hand thawing against the heat of his skin until it felt hot on him again. He cradled her head with his stump and pulled her closer with his other arm, keeping it outside her shirt, but pressing the linen into her tightly as she tangled their legs together.

This was the most intimate their endeavors to keep warm had been, and had she been fully awake Brienne might have pulled away from him, but in this state, and in this cold, she was clamoring for any ounce of warmth she could find, and it was too cold to think of anything but warming her. Eventually they both fell completely asleep again in each other's arms.

_Everything's all right_

* * *

When dawn broke, the fire was cold but the cave warmed quickly with the rising sun. Brienne stirred, her hand stretching across the hairs at the top of Jaime's chest...she stopped, her eyes flying open. She was pressed tightly against Jaime, their arms and legs trapping themselves together. One of her hands cradled his face, and the other was under his shirt, pressed to his chest. Her heart skipped a beat as she realized that his hand had slipped beneath the waist of her breeches in the night and was holding her hip tight against him. Their foreheads had been pressed together, his nose resting on hers, his breath pushing against her own lips.

Jaime was dreaming. He was holding Brienne in his arms. Everywhere he touched her, her skin seemed to ignite and glow. They were so close that when she whispered his name, her lips danced against his. He breathed in the smell of her. She smelled like the wind and the sea. And when he whispered her name back to her, he pulled her bottom lip between his until they were sinking into the kiss, a tangle of warm and cold limbs, the most vivid dream he'd ever had of her. Then he felt her hand against his chest pushing him away, and his eyes shot open, blinking against the dawn.

He had rolled her under him. His hand, he realized, was gripping her ass from within her breeches. And although she had a hand against his chest, her ankles were hooked behind his knees, and her other hand was stroking his hair, a blush creeping up her neck and inflaming her cheeks. She answered the question in his eyes with a slow nod, and he lowered his mouth to her neck where the raised scars from the bear marred her skin. As he suckled her neck, Brienne threw her head back with a moan and moved both hands to his hair. After his tongue had explored the marks extensively, she tugged his head back up to crush his lips to her. He moaned her name into her mouth as she arched against him.

Just then, there was a cough from the direction of the waterfall. Jaime immediately broke the kiss and shifted his body to protectively cover hers, his chest hovering over her face. Sitting with a smirk on the ledge beside the stream was Bronn of the Blackwater.

* * *

With each bout of the storm, the ship had edged north despite all their efforts. After several days, the tiny island was spotted on the horizon. The captain had made for it, hoping to lay anchor as the next front came in. Just the day before, as they crept closer, the crow's nest had spotted a flashing light coming from the isle.

"Our sparring," interrupted Brienne, earning a nod from Jaime. "Who'd have known that would be more successful in rescuing us than the fire."

"How far are we from land?" asked Jaime.

The captain considered the question, "A fair few miles, Ser Jaime. I believe we're rather close to the fingers here. But with all that mist from the storms, you'd never see them, even from the shore."

"That is, if you've been spending must time outside the cave at all," Bronn jibed.

Brienne's hand closed on her hilt, but Jaime reached over and covered her hand with his wrist.

"Do you intend to sail straight for the citadel, captain?

"No, Ser Jaime. We've been afloat too long now. Once the tide goes out we'll sail straight for Gulltown and replenish are supplies there before heading south again."

"And is my saddlebag still onboard?"

"Aye, Ser Jaime - it's in my quarters," he said with a sidelong suspicious glance at Bronn.

Jaime nodded. "Thank you, captain. If you'll excuse us for a few moments, Lady Brienne and I will collect our things and join you at the ship shortly."

The captain nodded and exited the cave.

"Bronn-"

"-I know whatcher thinking-"

"I don't think you do."

"Aye, yer not thinking of getting off in Gulltown and staying there."

"Not quite."

"We'll I ain't going to Dorne alone."

"I don't expect you to go to Dorne at all. Cersei will find another way. She never had faith in me anyway, why bother trying to prove her wrong? I don't require her praise nor her approval. If Cersei is not successful, well then Myrcella will marry Prince Tristane and probably bear his children, and I will continue to have naught to do with it."

"So what then, we're just gonna get off in port and, what, turn tail?"

"You can go where you wish, Bronn. But know that my men have a chest of gold with your name on it in King's Landing, as promised. All I ask is that if you return there to retrieve it, that you do not tell Cersei that you found me."

"Jaime what are you doing?" Brienne whispered through gritted teeth.

"The right thing. Swear it, Bronn. Swear it and I'll see to it that Casterly Rock sends you another chest."

Bronn thought a moment, then smiled at the two of them. "What can I say? I'm a man who can be bought." He chuckled and looked around the cave. "Quite the homely little love nest you two have got here. It'll be colder in the North, you know."

"Why do you think I asked the captain about my belongings?"

Bronn gave him a knowing glance. "Aye...but I'll be paid in King's Landing?"

"Double, Bronn."

"Hmm… well, see you two at the boat then. Don't be tardy, unless of course you're thinking of nesting here for the winter." Bronn sauntered out of the cave and Brinne poured sand on the fire angrily before turning to Jaime.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm coming with you. To find Sansa."

"I believe I know where they're going. I'll recover her. You don't need to stay with me."

"I do. I will. Brienne, the oath we swore was both of ours. I should never have sent you off to honor it alone. I'm not keeping that oath if I leave you to fulfill it while I go after my own kin."

"And what of your sister? Surely Cersei will not simply accept that you're gone."

"She wrote me off before I left. And missing is not the same as gone. Gone means I'd have to change my identity, hide for the rest of my life. Missing means I can live my life and let her exist on whispers of my movements only. It means that she cannot keep me under her thumb. I'm a ghost, a rumor."

"The North isn't safe for you, Jaime. They'll remember what your father did to the Starks."

"Brienne, the gods don't want me in King's Landing. If they did, I would not have been detained for a year and then traveled south with you for another twelvemonth. The gods don't want me in Dorne, either. If they did, I wouldn't have been cast off of the ship that was taking me there. Don't you see, this…" he gestured around at the cave, "this…" he stepped toward her and clasped her hand, "...clearly they wanted me to find you, for us to be back together again. Besides, you protected me before," he added with a smirk.

Brienne didn't put much stock in the gods, and she knew Jaime didn't either, but if there was to be an explanation for this, it made as much sense as any.

"And what of after?" she asked, an edge of bitterness creeping in.

"After what?"

"After we find Sansa. What about then? After we fulfill our oath, will you take your sword from me then, and go back south?"

When he looked up at her, she could see his eyes were moist and shining. He pulled her hand up and placed it on his chest, then moved his hand to cup her face. "I told you, the sword is yours. It will always be yours...from this day until the end of my days." He rubbed his thumb over her lips as her expression changed into one of quiet astonishment. "We don't need oaths to make that true. But I will swear them all the same if you need me to." He pushed his forehead up to meet hers. "Where you go, I go, Brienne."

She smiled and met his lips lightly, a promise. "North," she whispered against his lips.

"North." He smiled and dropped his hand to capture hers, linking their fingers. "Lead the way, my lady."

_Yeah_

_Everything's all right_

* * *

Lyrics from "Storm" by Lifehouse (Jason Wade)


End file.
